Imagine
by GillesCouscous Girl
Summary: A little surprise for my friend and co-author Couscous Girl next time she browses fanfic. net. This is a totally mad and dark fic. Warning: the world is almost upside down.. well.. it will be anyway.


Imagine  
  
By Gilles and Couscous Girl.  
  
Disclaimer: We don't own anyone. And I (Gilles) Only own half of the rest. Which leaves not much.  
  
Even the title isn't ours. It's John Lennon's. And no, this doesn't have much to do with drugs. Unless you count sugar as an illicit substance. Which you should.  
  
  
  
G/N: okay, there are two authors to this fanfic, respectively Gilles and Couscous Girl. As you can see, this is Gilles writing. (G/N) Couscous has no clue I'm posting this, surprise, surprise… So I guess you'll hear from her in the reviews if she notices it around during one of her usual patrols of fanfic.net… *discreetly slips behind a cupboard* Please convince her not to go Gilles-bashing for it… ())  
  
Now about the fanfic. You can't quite see it yet, because this is only a crappy first chapter, but this story is going to be RAVING MAD. Dark. Unexpected. Slashy. AND it has a plot. A real one. We have it all planned out.. héhé… Just to give you a foretaste.. how would you like to have Lucius crawling on the floor at Ginny's feet? Ginny a death-eater, of course… and Harry… well *smiles smugly* .. no, I won't tell you that… just be aware that WORSE is coming…  
  
On with the story…  
  
  
  
Part I Sono come sono  
  
  
  
As/N: This is a song by an Italian group, Bluvertigo. As you can see, we're pretty international.. ;)  
  
Basically, this means, "I am what I am". Which fit this part quite well , I think *looks smug* since this is all about characters being… unexpected. You'll see, in time. Many pairings are going to surprise you, a lot… héhé.. had too much sugar the night we wrote this…. We're on a sugar diet theses days…  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Home for the Holidays….  
  
Slow, purposeful footsteps of clock-like regularity boomed hollowly through the impenetrable darkness. One dry command, and a multitude of candles suddenly flared up, shattering the gloom, revealing the place and its owner.  
  
An unusually imposing figure, yet frighteningly skinny, draped in a dark, somewhat rigid fabric, which barely shifted as it advanced, heels clicking against the marble tiling.  
  
By candlelight, the place seemed incredibly vast, and looked somewhat like a chapel or a crypt. The distant ceiling lost itself in shadows, its sculptured arcs fading in a mixture of candle smoke and incense fumes. The velvet hangings on the walls were worn but still glowed a rich green as the light hit them, clearly outlining shadows. Shadows of furniture. Beds, armchairs, cupboards brimming with clothes…her clothes. And a coiffeuse. Hers, too. Complete with her Foe-glass, the Venice perfume bottles where she kept her poisons, her poudrier… Yes, this must be it…The silhouette glided towards the coiffeuse and seized the powder-box in one fluid movement, its spidery fingers barely trembling, then dropped heavily in the throne-like high-backed armchair facing it.  
  
The candles may have broken the dankness, but they couldn't alter the cold or the silence in the crypt. The eerieness is almost tangible as Lord Voldemort hesitantly fumbles with the small gleaming object in his hands. And from behind the alter, like some antique goddess, the life-size stone effigy of Lily Evans stares intently at him with her much too bright emerald eyes, hitting him with a murderous green glow which brushes the tip of the wand held in her joint hands.  
  
  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
You were rather lucky not to be at Percy's wedding, in fact. Well, there was nothing to complain about, really…It's just that Fred and George couldn't repress an urge to make the cake explode, spattering cream all over the place. And, as always, I was the one caught sniggering, so Mom thought I had been involved in this with the twins, and I was yelled at as forcefully as the others. And it was none too funny. And of course she went on to lecture on and on about us being such a good example to darling Ginny (well, what the hell, she's not that little or innocent anymore!) who did manage to be a prefect, unlike me…and got 10 owls last year, while I only got 8…  
  
Imagine me foaming. I just hate it when she gets all concerned about education…Not mentioning the fact that she's still somewhat disturbed by the twins' choice of career…Right now, she's convinced I'll end up a beggar in Diagon alley. I only wish I hadn't shouted back I'd be an auror! She was so furious she would have killed me if I hadn't fled as fast as I could. But come on, it's not really my fault, is it, if I don't have a clue as to what I'll do when I graduate from Hogwarts…If I graduate…Gosh, Herm is so lucky to be a brick in class…Even though I still believe she's a workoholic and I couldn't work half as much as her to save my life.  
  
By the way, you know what she said when I told her about the service et Percy's wedding? She giggled. Can you imagine, Herm giggling? Frightening sight. And she said it was "too cute" too…I hadn't ever imagined she could use such a word as cute! It sounds sort of American to me… Definitely foreign, anyways…I wonder who taught it to her…An American of course…Boy, maybe…Well, that's not the point, really.  
  
I wasn't really sure if she was even serious about it. She had that kind of twinkle in her eyes as she said it… kind of like Dumbledore…Still, I guess I shouldn't complain: it was the first time I'd seen her making fun of Perfect Prefect Percy! Well… or maybe it's not having been named Head Girl which confused her… It came as quite a shoock to me as well. I mean, can you picture anyone but Hermione as Head Girl in our year? It's just plain nonsense…  
  
Or maybe it's just the whole SPEW thing that got to her head. Oh, you don't know about THIS mess, right? Believe me, you're all the better for it. Believe me. It's nothing serious, anyways, else I'd have already told you about it…  
  
It's too bad Dumbledore isn't letting you come over here… If your Muggles aint feeding you properly, remember there's always owls…Speaking of Hermione: she's spending the last week of her holidays at her parents', and not at the Burrow, for the first time in… can't even remember how long. I'm kinda lonesome. And worried. Harry, do you think she could have a boyfriend?  
  
Ron.  
  
PS: Everyone says hi.  
  
  
  
Dear Ron,  
  
She hasn't. Quit worrying about nothing.  
  
Harry.  
  
PS: My regards to your family.  
  
PPS: Congratulations to Gin.  
  
PPPS: Be kind enough to tell George I'll NEVER talk to him again. He knows why.  
  
  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
How have your holidays been since last time I asked you? I'm really sorry if I bother you with my personal small problems, but all this is becoming more than plain simply annoying. He's impossible! I can't even talk or laugh with someone for two minutes without him frowning and sulking. I've been telling him he's taking it all too far, but he just doesn't listen to me. Maybe it's being from an all-wizard family that makes him so medieval-minded. .. That's really the ONE thing I can't stand with Weasleys. No, cross that. The wizarding world at large. They're in dire need of suffragettes.  
  
Enough with me. Have you finally been made a prefect? I still think it's a shame you weren't last year. After all, you're not THAT troublesome. Your father was far worse, or so I gathered, and HE was made a prefect nonetheless. I wonder what is keeping Dumbledore from naming you Head Boy, after all you have done for Hogwarts…  
  
Have you heard from Snuffles lately?  
  
Hope to see you soon,  
  
Hermione.  
  
PS: Have you told Ron what I asked you to ?  
  
  
  
Yeah.  
  
Harry.  
  
  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Do you have any clue as to what is going on in the wizarding world? I don't. Well, I do, a little, but no quite as much as I'd like. The daily prophet is obviously not telling us things, the Ministry refuses to make any comment, and even my father, oddly enough, seems to try changing the subject each time I broach it. And, what's worse, I have this nagging impression Mum's helping him.  
  
We don't seem to be getting any mail anymore, neither from Snuffles, Lupin or Hogwarts. There's definitely something going on. I know I'm not supposed to write such things in my letters, but really, who does the Ministry think they're fooling? "Everything is normal and perfectly under control. You're not to worry." Surely even you must admit that with the whole business with "You-Know-Who" getting stronger, SPEW is plain preposterous. Don't they have anything better to do than suddenly care for House-Elves' rights? I'll cut of commenting because it would take all night.  
  
Love.  
  
Ron.  
  
  
  
Dear Ron,  
  
You know just as well as I do that Fudge never will accept You-Know- Who is getting back even if he himself was mugged by a pack of Death- Eaters. There's nothing to do about it, really. Furthermore, there's not much chance of us getting a new Ministry: Death Eaters must think he's making it all so much easier for them they won't EVER consider killing him! One could almost think he is one of them. But that doesn't make sense. I must be lacking sleep badly to say such things! Yes, that must be it; I'm stuck over this Advanced Arithmancy essay, and of course my parent's don't have a clue as to what the solution is.  
  
Pigwidgeon is getting excited (ie he is buzzing frantically across the room), so I'll send this immediately.  
  
Love and kisses.  
  
Hermione.  
  
PS: You have to be more careful in your messages, you know.  
  
PPS: Don't you think that "Dear Hermione" is a bit too formal? Try to think up something more appropriate for your next letter!  
  
  
  
Harry,  
  
Are you SURE I have nothing to worry about? Hermione's so.. well, smart, kind, pretty…but don't you dare repeat I said that to anyone. I just don't deserve her. I know it annoys her when I get all worked up about her laughing but somebody else, saying it is medieval and all, but this has nothing to do with wizards' ideas about women. It's just that… Hell, I'm so scared she'll just find somebody else and leave… I'd die on the spot, honest. Oh well.  
  
Let's talk about you, rather. Mum said you could come over for Christmas if you wished, and of course Dumbledore agrees. Charlie also mentioned that he might be coming to see you play at Hogwarts this year. He hasn't seen a Hogwarts Quidditch match since his own days, you know. What I think is that he's still pretty impressed by your performance at the Triwizard Tournament three years ago. He once admitted he'd really love to have a chance to play against you.  
  
Gin says "Thanks for the congratulations". With a little smile that I'm not sure I could decipher. Still, I believe she's in love with you as ever.  
  
George just swore "there's nothing personal, great Gods!".  
  
Mum asked me to write yet again not to let the Dursleys starve you, that you could always ask here. As if you didn't know already… !  
  
Ron.  
  
  
  
Ron,  
  
"Nothing personal"??? My ass!!!!!  
  
  
  
Harry,  
  
Seriously, are you alright? Your letters are so gloomy. And succinct. The Dursleys DO treat you right, don't they? We could warn Dumbledore if necessary, you know. I'm sure he'd let you come here till school started…  
  
Heard from Sirius? Nothing can happen to him, he's well hidden, but still… he knows what "being careful" means, I guess, no matter what has been said about him.  
  
Remember, I'm your friend, ok? You can tell me anything.  
  
Ron.  
  
PS: have you made up your mind to answer me solely in monosyllables ?  
  
  
  
Nope  
  
  
  
Sweet love Hermione Hermi,  
  
What on earth is wrong with Harry? He only writes back to me two words on a bit of parchment! Well, to me , at least. What about you? I don't think Dumbledore forbid him to write!!! I'm getting seriously worried about him acting so strange.  
  
Maybe he's depressed about Cho, but somehow I doubt it. He'd tell me that. His first crush going out with one of his friend's brother… it's bad, but not bad enough for him to refuse to tell me what's wrong.  
  
Or is it because "You-Know-Who" has taken over Azkaban ? Hell, I dunno, but he's not behaving normally. He wasn't in such a bad condition even after Cedric's death. Any ideas ?  
  
Your Ron.  
  
PS: Billions of kisses. I miss you, can't wait for the start of the school year, which is something, coming from me… (ah.. would you please not write anything of the sort in your letters? If aver one of my brothers found out, I'd never hear the end of this…)  
  
PPS: Did I mention I missed you ?  
  
  
  
Ronnie,  
  
You KNOW I hate it when you call me Hermi, Harry still doesn't know about Azkaban, Dumbledore didn't let him subscribe to any newspaper during the summer.  
  
And by the way, did you hear that dear Rita is back? I never thought she could resist the temptation to write another of her disgusting articles, damn her quill, for so long. And yet THAT article is perfectly innocent and utterly harmless: "The Hidden Faults of the Nimbus 2001." I suppose you can picture my Malefoy-style smirk.  
  
Back to Harry. Surely he couldn't be so distressed for Cho, I agree. I mean, she never even looked at him, if you cross out the time when he asked her to the Yule ball. I don't think he seriously meant it about George. It's just a bit difficult for him. I mean, it would be for you too. I seem to remember a certain French half-Veela who…  
  
I have plenty of other explanation, far too much in fact. He could be having more nightmares, love someone else who doesn't look at him, be bothered about the Ministry's lack of reaction…  
  
Kisses him on the nose  
  
Hermione.  
  
PS: Should I understand that you are ashamed of me?  
  
PPS: Have you noticed? I never even mentioned the word "work"! be proud, love!  
  
  
  
Dah-ling Herm-own-ninny,  
  
(is that what you like to be called?) We'll be seeing each other tomorrow anyway, but lets sort things out before train-time…  
  
Thanks for the explicit letter, I think I never blushed so much in my life as when Fred and George read it ALOUD, mimicking the "Kisses him on the nose"!!!!! Even Mum was biting her lip not to laugh out loud! Why don't you EVER humor me? And no, stupid, I'm not ashamed of you.  
  
Ron.  
  
  
  
G/N: Okay, this was just setting the scene. In chapter two, there will be angst, romance (more of it), Alice Cooper and general gaping…  
  
Happy Birthday, Couscous dear.. hope you don't mind my little comments..  
  
Hey people, do something nice. Review this fic!!!!! Please. Pretty please with a sugar on top. 


End file.
